After death, or.In other words the end of the beginning.
Yes, it may sound insane to those who never tasted the cruelty of living under a curse that descended upon us. A strange phenomenon… called the Sin Anomaly. But I, or rather we, the marginalized, the non-ghosts, know well that the world does not want us to live. We must be erased from every border.
That night, when the sky was heavy with clouds, the wind rose like a long wail, and the rain fell drop by drop, as if it were engraving a new history of misery onto the stone. A lone blue moon peeked through the clouds, watching everything with the coldness of a dead eye. On the branch of a tree, a raindrop fell, and with it my hands trembled. My long black hair clung to my wet face, and my closed eyes suddenly opened to the flash of lightning and the roar of thunder that shook the earth beneath my feet.
Akrothia, the largest city of the West and the most crowded. From afar it looked like a sleeping beast, its high walls enclosing it like a giant tomb. Fog blanketed its streets every morning, and the sun barely slipped through the heavy clouds. In the old market tower, a rusty clock hung, its hands did not know the right path. They turned backward each day, as if refusing to acknowledge the present.
The market boiled with noise: the cries of vendors, the hooves of horses, the crash of carts, the smell of sweat mixed with smoke. Amid the chaos, a young man leapt, his tattered black coat flapping, gray trousers worn thin, his long hair tied with an old string. In his hand, a small bag rattled with the weight of stolen jewels.
"Stop, you filthy thief!"
The voice of an old man shouted, his cane trembling in the air as he tried to give chase. He was clearly the shopkeeper.
The young man glanced back for a moment, his glowing eyes reflecting defiance more than fear.
"Forgive me, old man… but I need this money more than you."
At the edge of the market, a mysterious man sat in a café, a long brown coat draped over him, his wide hat hiding half his face. The smoke of his cigarette dissolved into the morning fog, his eyes following the thief in silent interest. He did not move, only smiled slyly, as if he already knew the thief's story would not end here.
The yong man left the market's clamor behind. The deeper he went, the narrower the alleys became, the air damper, the rain heavier. The houses breathed old rot. He slipped into an abandoned garage beneath a crumbling building. Tossing the bag aside, he sat on a wooden chair missing one leg, breathing slowly. A thin gray pigeon pecked at the ground before him. He broke a piece of stale bread and stretched it out, the bird approached with uncanny trust.
His name was Neuth. His age was.21 Long black hair with some gray streaks, dark eyes from lack of sleep, pale white skin, and medium height used to living on the margins, always hunted, but never stopping. On the floor lay a damp newspaper. He picked it up and read the headlines:
"Taxes rise again."
"New laws for tracking the infected, better known as the non-ghosts."
He tossed the paper away, lifting his gaze to the ceiling of the garage as if asking: When will this all end? Being one of them, he knew he had to endure this nonsense.
Neuth left the garage, walking quietly through the district. His steps were heavy yet cautious, his eyes scanning every face as if expecting someone to lunge at him any moment. On the corner, a small flower shop. The sweet fragrance cut through the chaos of the street. There, a girl stood, about his age. Her black hair rippled over her shoulders, her blue eyes carrying a purity this city had long forgotten.She was a ferind from Shcool
And shid name is yana..
She smiled when she saw him approach.
Welcom to are shoop of followers..I amreemeberyou ..Neuth how areyou... "
A steps.. Open the door of shoop
He answered softly.
"yeah.. A very good thank you.. "
He bought a pink rose, as he always did. He said no more, and he took the flower, Then he left.
Soon after, he was in an old cemetery at the city's edge. The walls cracked, wild grass pushing between graves. He sat by a nameless stone, placing the rose gently, resting his forehead against it. The silence there was heavy, but more honest than the city's noise.
When he left, he pulled out an old phone. Its broken screen lit with breaking news:
"First arrest of an infected in the Fog District. Strict warnings against interacting with the non-ghosts."
In the distance, police sirens shredded the night. Neuth sighed, slid the phone back into his pocket, and walked on as if unsurprised. He already knew their turn was inevitable.
The alleys grew tighter, the night colder, the wind howling between walls. The stench of rot lingered, water dripping from cracked ceilings, rats scurrying past his boots. Then he saw her, a girl bound, her hair short, her clothes torn. An old policeman dragged her roughly, hatred burning in his eyes.
"Come on, you dead girl … resistance is useless."
The girl screamed, thrashing.
"Let me go, bastard!"
Yanma was bound by a rope on her feet His hand shoved her to the ground.Start to tear its lashes He leaned over, reaching for his belt…
Try to He physically assaulted her
Suddenly, A huge push towards the ground from Newth towards the policeman
...
The sound of trash cans hitting
That policeman had stopped his intentions.
He looked at Newth angrily and said quickly, "How dare you attack a security man? Do you know what you are doing?"
Newth in a funny, provocative tone Are you kidding me? You were going to assault a girl with complete ease.
A policeman answered him, "If I did, what's it to you?" "Besides, she's one of those afflicted by that curse... the strange sin, she carries great evil and has no right to resist... Now leave or you'll regret it."
Newth replied with only two words.. It seems that you are just an idiot, nothing more
A policeman with serious eyes in the name of the law, "" bow down and raise your hand pointing his gun at him.
Newth did this and he stared at him for a few seconds, then bowed his head and said loudly, "With pleasure, sir.".. A policeman came forward to arrest him and handcuff him.
A former girl carries a large stone and throws it behind the back of a policeman while he is busy... She pushes him away... Newth raises his hand and they decide to escape... Newth was amazed... From what he saw, he tried to save the girl and now she is saving him. It seems like a return of favor... While they are moving away from the scene of the chaotic alley incident, a policeman stands up to aim at them... Newth and a girl hid behind a nearby wall... He starts shooting at them... At the moment a policeman runs out of ammunition... Newth bravely advances towards him... A policeman fires a single shot after collecting his wallet... It only hits half of Newth's ankle
..
But Newth pulled out a knife from his waist and threw it quickly, hitting a policeman in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground...
That was the only way to escape him once and for all... after a policeman insisted on carrying out his vile act.
Neuth stood, eyes cold, pulling his blade from the corpse.
"…Stay away from the security men, problems will happen and you could get killed. This whole place is unsafe.
The girl trembled, whispering.
"... Realy thank you but Who… who are you.
He answered softly.
"Just another fugitive, like you. And important
I will see you one day or maybe not
The meeting is over
After She fled into the darkness, not noticing the rusted surveillance camera on the wall flickering faintly, recording everything.
Hours later, Neuth stood on a long bridge over the sea. Waves battered the rocks below, the wind tearing at his black coat.
He had treated his wound quickly after leaving the alley, using a piece of cloth he carried in his small bag, which was used for treatment, and by wrapping it around his ankle with a strong bandage... to stop the pain simply, he had prepared the solutions in advance.
The main reason for not going to the hospital was that he thought he was arrested or detained there.
Due to strict controls by the current government in most sectors: education, housing, transportation, travel, and work.
That means last control test is during entry and exit from that sector.
He lifted his eyes to the pale moon. He was motionless, as if contemplating something no one else could understand. But suddenly, pain seared his shoulder.
He pulled back his sleeve, trembling, revealing a black tattoo etched across his skin, sprawling from shoulder to arm. Its lines writhed as if alive. He bit into his own flesh, whispering through his teeth:
This tattoo… it's growing.
"Damn it… what am I becoming? All of this just from resisting…"